Tartarin of Tarascon eBook

In Costecalde’s shop, his opinions gained no
credence, for the cap-poppers renounced their chief!

Next, epigrams dropped into the affair. Chief
Judge Ladevese, who willingly paid court in his leisure
hours to the native Muse, composed in local dialect
a song which won much success. It told of a sportsman
called “Master Gervais,” whose dreaded
rifle was bound to exterminate all the lions in Africa
to the very last. Unluckily, this terrible gun
was of a strange kind: “though loaded daily,
it never went off.”

“It never went off” —­ you will
catch the drift.

In less than no time, this ditty became popular; and
when Tartarin came by, the longshoremen and the little
shoeblacks before his door sang in chorus —­

But it was shouted out from a safe distance, on account
of the double muscles.

Oh, the fragility of Tarascon’s fads!

The great object himself feigned to see and hear nothing;
but, under the surface, this sullen and venomous petty
warfare much afflicted him. He felt aware that
Tarascon was slipping out of his grip, and that popular
favour was going to others; and this made him suffer
horribly.

Ah, the huge bowl of popularity! it’s all very
well to have a seat in front of it, but what a scalding
you catch when it is overturned!

Notwithstanding his pain, Tartarin smiled and peacefully
jogged on in the same life as if nothing untoward
had happened. Still, the mask of jovial heedlessness
glued by pride on his face would sometimes be suddenly
detached. Then, in lieu of laughter, one saw
grief and indignation. Thus it was that one morning,
when the little blackguards yelped “Muster Jarvey’s
Roifle” beneath his window, the wretches’
voices rose even into the poor great man’s room,
where he was shaving before the glass. (Tartarin wore
a full beard, but as it grew very thick, he was obliged
to keep it trimmed orderly.)

All at once the window was violently opened, and Tartarin
appeared in shirt-sleeves and nightcap, smothered in
lather, flourishing his razor and shaving-brush, and
roaring with a formidable voice:

“Let’s have it out with swords, gentlemen,
not pins!”

Fine words, worthy of history’s record, with
only the blemish that they were addressed to little
scamps not higher than their boot-boxes, and who
were quite incapable of holding a smallsword.

XII.
A memorable Dialogue in the little Baobab Villa.

Amid the general falling off, the army alone stuck
out firmly for Tartarin. Brave Commandant Bravida
(the former captain in the Army Clothing Department)
continued to show him the same esteem as ever.
“He’s game!” he persisted in saying
—­ an assertion, I beg to believe, fully
worth the chemist Bezuquet’s. Not once did
the brave officer let out any allusion to the trip
to Africa; but when the public clamour grew too loud,
he determined to have his say.